


Wanna Be First in Line

by deliriumbubbles



Series: Broken Arrow [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5911531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/pseuds/deliriumbubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Blaine has demanded a divorce, Kurt has to find a way to cobble his life back together, despite the dearth of support from his friends and family. He faces his gossiping peers at his Mid-winter Critique with all the strength he has, but it’s just barely enough. Little does he know, an old friend is in the audience watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna Be First in Line

**Author's Note:**

> Kurt's Mid-Winter Critique song, "Be On Your Own," https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4co1WEKP_Ak

“Ugh. These _frown lines_ ,” Kurt groused as he inspected his face in the mirror.

He looked absolutely _hideous._ His forehead was marred by twin wrinkles between both brows, his skin was ashy and pale, and his eyes were puffy, bloodshot, and swollen. He’d put a cold compress on this morning, but it hadn’t seemed to do much to improve his looks.

He had, however, improved his mood by selling his wedding ring. He would use the money to put a down payment on a new place, when he found one.

* * *

 

Still, the show must go on. He took a few minutes to freshen up his hair and pushed several deep breaths in and out of his lungs. Seeing Blaine with his new fiance (who had held the title for all of two weeks) the night before had wrecked Kurt. He’d spent the night in his hotel room just barely keeping it together.

After all the fights, all the slights against Kurt’s choices and looks and behavior, after all the _cheating_ (and he knew about _most_ of those transgressions, he thought) _-_ Kurt simply didn’t understand how he’d been the one to be dumped. He’d made so many concessions for Blaine’s behavior. He’d chosen to forgive, to put their relationship over his pride, to support Blaine in every way he knew how.

But it hadn’t been enough. 

Two weeks ago, Blaine had announced that he was in love with someone else. He’d been pulling away for some time already, but that tended to happen anyway when Blaine wasn’t happy about something. Usually it was something that Kurt was doing that he didn’t like, and Kurt just had to wait out the cold, questioning him repeatedly, until Blaine admitted what was bothering him.

To _love_ one of the guys Blaine fucked, though. That was... It was something entirely different. When Blaine had cheated the first time, all of Kurt’s friends had pressed the point over and over that “people make mistakes,” and that Kurt was “hard to please,” and “not easy to love.” They had talked about the necessity for forgiveness, and how easy it was to make one little mistake... But Blaine was _in love_ with Tobias. He was going to marry him, once the divorce went through. And Tobias was a tall, well-cut brick of a man with axe-blade cheekbones, startling green doe eyes, and lashes like a drag queen.

Seeing them out together didn’t help Kurt’s already unstable mood. He was trying to keep a stiff upper lip, not complain to their mutual friends or his father, not utterly fall apart and just spend all day sleeping in his hotel room...

Keeping it together wasn’t easy, though. Especially since their friends kept taking Blaine’s side by encouraging Kurt not to be mad at Blaine. Especially when, after explaining what had happened on the phone to his father, Burt had told him that Kurt needed to try to get Blaine into counseling, and think about what _he_ could do to save the marriage.

Kurt had never felt more alone.

But the show must go on. He straightened his skinny tie over his cobalt shirt, brushed his hands over the cinch-waisted coal-colored suit with shiny lapels, and turned slightly to the side to examine his profile. He wasn’t sure if it looked good. He looked slim, almost skinny. In the end, though, it didn’t matter how he looked, but how he sang.

So he left the men’s room and walked down the hallway to the Round Room where he would be doing his mid-winter critique. His fourth (and hopefully final) critique, since he hadn’t been eligible his first semester at NYADA, and though he’d tried to graduate the year before, he was lagging behind on credits thanks to time wasted in Lima. Like always, he felt like he was treading water. Being held back while everyone he knew was shooting forward. 

Rachel had quit NYADA, done a Broadway show for two months and then quit to go to LA. After failing that, it seemed like the world had bent over backwards to give her more chances. Blaine had washed out of NYADA after his first year, gone home to sulk, then decided to let June run his career, and that meant travel and shows and an album. A second would be coming up within the year, if he ever got around to writing it. Mercedes was on her third album (topping the charts, and she deserved it) and had just nabbed a part in a new super hero film. Brittany and Mike were working as professional dancers, and Santana had done several bit parts on television shows and was technically working on an album, too.

And Kurt was still here. Still in school, still working thrice as hard to get just an inch further, still last in line, still waiting for his turn.

As he passed a few of the other students, Kurt remembered coming down this hallway two years ago. Before the wedding. After the bashing. People had been staring at him then, too. In retrospect... he’d performed in this room looking worse than he did today. Actually, more than once, he’d entered this room, his skin patterned with bruises and his heart so full and aching that he could barely keep it from escaping through his throat with a scream. Unfortunately, the gossip mill around NYADA had clearly already picked up on the story. No point in trying to hide.

Kurt ignored them and went inside, where the tables were already set up, and students were taking their seats. He would be singing second, so he didn’t have long to work himself up, thankfully. 

\---

Adam would’ve thought that after three years out of Kurt Hummel’s presence the magnetic pull that man had on him might have diminished, at least slightly. 

It had not.

The minute Kurt walked into the Round Room, Adam knew. Not through any psychic power, but because some of the other students turned their heads to watch him slowly and deliberately make his way over to one of the single-seat tables. Kurt was thinner than Adam remembered, though the suit did spectacular favors for his ass. His face, though, was what struck Adam most strongly. He simply looked _defeated_.

“Oh my _God_ , I can’t even believe he’s here,” Sarah muttered. She leaned forward. A newer Apple, Sarah didn’t know the story between Kurt and Adam. Most of them didn’t, since Kurt hadn’t chosen to return to the Apples after Adam had graduated and Adam had only been back in town for a few weeks.

“Why is that?” Adam asked.

Sarah shrugged and looked to the other two sitting at their table. “His husband _just_ dumped him for another guy. He’s behind on his program. You’d think he’d give up by now.”

“That’s not _exactly_ how I feel about it. Kurt’s not the first person in this school to take longer than eight semesters to finish-- Hel- _lo_. Slacking Apples. And he’s only behind by a little bit,” Kiera said. “He’s the strongest person here.” She shook her head. “Like, two years ago, he was put in the hospital. I heard he had _a cracked skull_ , and he _still_ showed up. There’s nothing that would keep Kurt Hummel from a performance.”

“What?” Adam looked to her in alarm. “He was in hospital? Why?”

Kiera shook her head sympathetically at Adam. She’d entered the semester before Kurt, and so she remembered... pretty much everything. She turned her head to look around the room, but they weren’t starting yet, so she began sharing the story, or what she knew of it. Alarm continued to grow in Adam’s chest as he heard of Kurt’s beating, how he’d risked his life for a stranger. Though it had happened so long ago, his flushed cheeks and pounding heart were a bit misplaced.

_His husband dumped him for another guy._

To say Adam’s emotions were conflicted would be an understatement. But where were Kurt’s tagalongs? By now Rachel might’ve graduated, but Kurt had other friends who ought to be here, especially if he was on the precipice of a divorce.

When Carmen came to the front, all discussion stopped. She introduced the first singer of the day, sprightly second year, with blue and pink tracks in her weave. She did an energetic number from the new _Dance Dance Revolution_ musical, which didn’t seem to please Carmen much. It sounded amazing, though.

“Maybe something a little more ambitious next time, Carolee,” Carmen suggested. She waved her hand and the girl gave a nod then walked back into the audience. “Next up, Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt rose and approached the piano.

“Haven’t you graduated yet?” Carmen asked. There was some stifled laughter among the audience. 

Adam raised both brows. That was a bit rude. He’d forgotten how she put students on the spot. And with events like this, they were under pressure in front of their peers _and_ alumni.

“This semester. Unless I get hit by a tour bus or something.” Kurt half turned to the piano and knocked on the wood jauntily.

“Well, thankfully, I’ve not had to witness you belting with bruises more than the once, though I suspect we all know you’re very capable of doing so.” She waved to the orchestra. “Go on.”

Kurt took a breath and lifted his chin. Under the lights, the strain on his face was more than obvious. Kiera waved at her friends and pointed to Kurt to get them to pay special attention. For better or worse, everyone was waiting to see what Kurt would do. It seemed that relationships aside, Kurt’s reputation where it really mattered hadn’t suffered at all.

Adam prepared himself for something truly beautiful. Watching Kurt perform was always a singular experience, and Adam missed it. He’d had to leave; for his own heart, he’d had to separate himself from Kurt, and then had taken a part back in England upon graduation. One part had led to two, and then others, and the years had sped by... but of course, he’d missed the power and grace of Kurt’s angelic voice. Even thinking back to “Bring Him Home” made Adam yearn for it.

As the strings began to play, though, the tone of the music was dark. Short, dramatic strokes. And quite loud, actually.

Suddenly, Kurt snapped his head up, singing almost angrily, “Be on your oooown!”

Adam was taken aback. He had _so_ expected Kurt to begin softly and slowly allow the crescendo drive the nuance of the song that such a powerful start was almost alien. His voice belted the last word with an exquisite vibrato.

“You’ve always talked about your need to travel,” Kurt sang, almost sneering, as he gestured with his hands, “Now go off! Unravel on your own! Go find some restaurant attendant, go show him how independent you have grown!”

His lower register was rich, and a little dangerous. The smirks and smug looks from Kurt’s peers were _gone_. Many of the alumns sat up ridged with anticipation.

This was not the Kurt Hummel that Adam had left behind.

“Go on! Be on your waaay! There’s not a single reason I can find to make me want to keep you one more day!” The strings began to grow more frantic. Kurt stalked the front of the stage area, singing as though chastising his fictitious, errant lover. 

Well... maybe not that fictitious.

“There isn’t any sort of word that you could say! There isn’t any sort of price that you could pay! There isn’t any sort of magic to avoid this tragi-comic little plaaaay we need to play.” Kurt shook his head and laughed derisively. “Be on your way.”

Chills ran up and down Adam’s spine at this irate, ruthless creature in front of him. Spurned, vindictive, ready to pounce. It was clear Adam wasn’t the only one affected, either, as he caught several people with their hands to their mouths. 

The music slowed, slightly, and Kurt unexpectedly reached into his higher register, sounding less frightening and more vulnerable. His movements stilled, and he held his hands in front of him, looking up, rather than glaring at the audience head on.

“Go oooon... No need to carry out this masqueraaaade when all that we’re about’s begun to faaaade. I set you free...” Kurt looked down slightly, shook his head, and then began again, the volume slowly growing once again and his hand extended in front of him, his finger shaking in fury or fear, “There’s not much longer to complain. I’ll soon relieve you of your _pain_ when I set you free. If that is all you wish to have, then I agree. No need for thanks, your just rewards will be my fee.”

Fully livid now, Kurt contorted his face in disgust. Adam could practically see the scene unfold in Kurt’s loft apartment-- Kurt shouting at his husband, throwing clothes and a suitcase and whatever he could get his hands on, as his husband shouted back, hands gesticulating wildly... Kurt launched into the end of the song with all of the vast power available to him.

“Go off and live your petty fictions! Full of _lies_ and contradictions you’ll never see! And what will _be_ is that you’ll _leeeave_!”  

The music stopped, but Kurt continued to sing, slowly, gently, but bitterly. 

“And you’ll take with you all you oooown... from A to Z... and aaaall of meeee.”

And then Kurt was finished, and there was silence. Just a little gasp from someone on the other side of the room, but beyond that, no one seemed ready to make a noise.

Then one of the alumni began to clap, and soon, it was thunderous as the sound bounced off the vaulted ceiling. Kurt gave a sigh and bowed briefly to the crowd.

  
When the clapping died down, Carmen spoke: “I’m truly going to miss your contribution every year. You never fail to surprise. Once I think I know what to expect from you, I get something different, and new. It’s a trait that will suit you well when you’re on the market, though some of our number seem to think repackaging what we’ve already seen is the way to go. It’s safer, yes, but you’ve _never_ been one to play it safe.”

The praise seemed contradictory to her attitude before, but Carmen had always been mercurial. Adam tilted his head to the side as Kiera whispered the others that Carmen had been less than amiable with Kurt after the two other from Lima, Ohio had dropped/flunked out. It explained her irritableness. Drop-outs, and those who behaved badly when they got roles, made the whole school look bad. 

At the front, Carmen enumerated for the students in the audience the vocal techniques Kurt had used in his performance, and what it meant to portray such an emotionally exhausting song. Before Kurt left the spotlight, however, she added one more pointed critique: “I’d better see your name on the audition lists for more ambitious rolls, and soon.”

Kurt nodded, thanked her, and returned to his seat. Adam should’ve given Kurt the privacy of not staring. It would’ve been one person not watching him, keenly. The stories about his life were circulating, and he’d used them to throw it all back into the faces of everyone there. Unsurprising, though, after hearing the song he’d chosen after being gay bashed.

Kurt’s fingers curled at his lips as he watched the next performer come to the front. His breaths came in and out, in and out. And just like that, Adam _knew_ that Kurt was about to cry. He didn’t know what to do. He doubted anyone else (anyone not a creepy freak) was still watching Kurt now that the next performer had begun. But if he did cry, then that would be extremely humiliating for him, after putting on such a strong front.

The point quickly became moot. Kurt rose in a slow, deliberate motion, put his chair back under his table, and strolled out of the room as though he wasn’t doing more than going to get some water. Adam tried to focus, but it was impossible. 

He got up and went after Kurt, with much less grace.

\---

Twisted, ugly sobs wrenched their way out of Kurt’s body, despite his effort to choke them back. There was nothing to be done about it. Just hope that everyone remained on the other end of the hallway so he could cry this out in the empty dramaturgy classroom without mortally embarassing himself.

Choosing that song, yes, had been a risk. Of _course_ it had. But what was he to do, when everyone already knew what was going on in his life? When he heard whispers behind his back, and he had no allies here anymore to buffer the sounds of their distain? He had to put on a brave front for them, or cave under everyone’s stares. 

_Eat your heart out, Kate Middleton._

There was no one to return to after his brave display, however. Kurt had friends, once, but not really, anymore. He understood that now. He’d burned his bridges with the Apples, and there were those who wanted his attention for a hot minute during his sophomore year, but when it became clear that he wouldn’t be leaving Blaine, that interest waned.

Then there were the friends that Blaine drove off. Oh, Blaine made it seem like he just cared so deeply about Kurt and wanted to protect him, but in reality, Blaine was jealous, always jealous, when Kurt had male friends. And so there was no staying friends with Elliott, or Nick, or Ronnie, or Derek, or Harmon. Blaine had seemed okay with girls being friends with him, but it was hard to keep anyone around under the circumstances. It was embarassing, for one, to have Blaine acting so ridiculously all the time, throwing tantrums, snapping at the most ridiculous things, breaking things. Blaine just continued to lose it, until those who might’ve been Kurt’s friends backed off, or Kurt avoided the association with friends outside their circle altogether.

How was Kurt supposed to ‘get out there’ and pick up the pieces of his broken life, when he’d been so stupid as to let Blaine break every part of it? Nothing really seemed to have a point anymore. He couldn’t even go back to his hotel feeling like this. He’d have the urge to just fling himself out the window, and with his luck, he’d survive it and have to put up with people’s attitudes about making them feel bad on his account.

“Kuht?”

Kurt made a strangled noise and looked up. He could see large sandaled feet underneath the desk. The feet shifted as the man moved, and Kurt tried to breathe more quietly.

The sandals came forward, as the man began to explore the room. “Kurt? Are you in here?”

Kurt blinked slowly and swallowed. His brows furrowed into the deep grooves of his frown lines. The voice sounded familiar. Gentle, British...

“If you _are_... Well, you don’t _have_ to come out, I just... I wanted to tell you that... your number was a _maz_ ing.” 

Kurt’s grew wider and wider.

“Of course, you _always_ sounded amazing, but...” The feet stopped by the window. “It was very... People were gasping. It was shocking, and gritty, and _powerful_. You took their breaths away. You took mine...”

Kurt covered his mouth, then wiped his eyes. _Adam._

“And... he _never_ deserved you. Not one bit. Not that- I should’ve- I mean, it doesn’t have to do with _us_. Maybe I should’ve fought harder for you, but aside from all that... Kurt, you’re better than him. The idea that _he_ left you is just... _ludicrous_... You’re better off without ‘im.” Adam made a noise. “I’m sorry, that’s rude. That’s not supportive... I uh...”

He huffed out a tense sigh. Kurt pushed himself to his feet.

“Kurt!” Adam blinked, as though surprised.

“Didn’t you know I was here?”

“I _thought_ I heard you crying...” Adam started to say something else, but then rubbed his temple and tucked his hand in his back pocket.

He was more than a bit underdressed for the Mid-Winter Critiques-- a sweater with three-quarter sleeves, a ragged scarf, threadbare jeans, _sandals_ \-- but that was Adam. And he _was_ an alumni, and one who had become somewhat well-known in British television, so they wouldn’t turn him away.

Kurt wiped his eyes again. “I was. Divorce, you know... Not as fun as they make it out to be on tv.”

Adam frowned slightly, then laughed softly.

“Thank you,” Kurt said. “For checking on me. And for saying that. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s true, though. Every word. Kurt... I’m so sorry it turned out this way-”

“Why can’t you be a _normal_ person?” Kurt shook his head and shrugged. “Why can’t you be happy that I’m miserable and broken? Why don’t you wish I’d gotten _fat_? Blaine tried his hardest to make _that_ happen.”

Adam stared at him, confusion written all over his face. He cocked his head to the side, started to speak, then closed his mouth again. Holding his tongue. Avoiding conflict. Being polite about it all. Kurt shook his head and looked to the window.

“Sorry. You’re a _good_ person. I forget what that looks like, sometimes. Thank you for your concern. I’ll be all right.”

“You’re _not_ all right.” 

Adam stepped closer, and Kurt crossed his arms over himself, glaring fiercely at the snowy trees he could see out the window. He half-expected Adam to grab him, his arms or his face, to make him behave and listen, or to kiss him. But he didn’t touch Kurt, he just watched him, quietly.

“What are you doing?” Kurt didn’t mean to snap, but that was how the words came out. Like viscous little daggers aimed for this man who had seen him crumbling and wouldn’t _leave_.

“Trying to see how I can help,” Adam offered. “Would you tell me? That would be easier, you know. If you’d just tell me what I can do to make this better.”

“Would you just _stop_?” Kurt exploded.

Now Adam stepped back. Now he looked hurt, but just as confused, and he didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon. Kurt didn’t know why he couldn’t bear Adam’s presence right now. He just couldn’t. It felt like thorns pressing into his heart and lungs.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, Kurt. I never would. You know that, don’t you? I’d never force you into anything. And I won’t tell anyone anything you tell me. I promise to respect you, and your boundaries.” Adam shrugged his head to the side. “Break-ups are difficult in themselves... Divorce is another matter. Where are your friends, Kurt? Are you staying with them? Rachel-”

“Is back in L.A. Santana... I’m not sure. Elliott- You never knew Elliott.” Kurt spread his palms. “What can I say? I have to deal with this on my own. It’s my fault, anyway. I’ve pushed away everyone who isn’t already one of Blaine’s loyal followers. All of my friends love him better. You would too, if you knew him.”

“I know _enough_ of him.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Word does get around the entertainment industry, you know.”

“That’s what you say now.” Kurt hugged his arms.

“ _Kurt_. I just want to offer my help.” Adam screwed his brows together. “Why on Earth are you trying to fight with me?”

Kurt threw his hands in the air. “Why are you always so _nice_ to me?!” 

Adam’s brow smoothed out, and he pressed his lips together. Then, gradually, his eyes started to shine just a bit. Kurt stared on in bafflement.

“ _Why?_ ” he asked Adam again, a little breathlessly.

A tear rolled down Adam’s cheek, and he drew closer once more. This time he lifted his large hand up to Kurt’s face, hesitating a moment by Kurt’s cheek and looking into his eyes. More tears came, and Kurt couldn’t stand to see Adam like that. He didn’t understand him, but he didn’t want to hurt him anymore. Wasn’t that why he’d stayed away to begin with? He wiped the tears from Adam’s cheek and then moved his face into Adam’s hand. 

Adam cupped Kurt’s face gently, then pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I _like_ you. That’s why.” Adam closed his eyes, unable to stop himself from crying. “God, I wish I’d fought for you. Even if you’d broken my heart later, Blaine would’ve moved on before he could do this to you.”

“You don’t know that. He can be relentless. When he _wants you_ that is.” Kurt petted over Adam’s shoulder.

Adam opened his eyes again and stroked Kurt’s cheek with the back of his fingers.

“And it’s not right, for me to hurt _you_ , just to protect myself,” Kurt said firmly.

Adam pursed his lips, then brought his other hand up to Kurt’s face. It hovered in front of him, and Kurt watched curiously for a moment. Then:

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, closing his eyes slightly.

He didn’t know what possessed him to let Adam do these things, but he was sure it would come to bite him in the ass. Mostly, he didn’t care, right now, what happened to him. The last decade of his life had been an ever-worsening gauntlet of shame and pain. Adam couldn’t possibly scream at Kurt any louder, cheat on him any more, break his things any more completely, or leave any more degrading bruises on him.

Actually, Adam was pretty strong. He probably could hurt Kurt more, physically, at least.

But Adam’s hand was _gentle_ as he moved his thumb over Kurt’s brow, smoothing out the frown lines. Kurt’s eyelids fluttered, and his lips parted.

“There we go. There you are,” Adam murmured.

Kurt fought a smile. “You’re such a dork.”

“True enough.” Something serious settled in Adam’s face, and he licked his lips. “Where _are_ you staying? Are you still in the same house with him?”

“No. Blaine’s parents bought our apartment, and it’s in his name. I’m in a hotel.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Right. Of course.”

“I’m fine, Adam. You don’t have to swoop in like some white knight and try to protect me.”

“Pardon you, I’m really just trying to assess how _bad_ this situation is. It seems pretty bad. You seem pretty...”

Kurt waited for a moment for Adam to finish, but he didn’t. “You can say whatever you want to. I’m not going to sleep with you, anyway.”

“Blunt, but effective.” Adam raised his brows. “That’s _not_ why I’m being nice to you, by the way.”

Kurt looked over toward the door, feeling his ears growing red.

“I was going to say that, acting aside of course, you seemed very upset still. You seem... very much like you need help.”

“He _just_ left. He knew a lot longer that he was going to leave, but he just told me two weeks ago.” Kurt sucked in his cheeks and lifted his chin. “And I just saw the guy last night. I knew his name, _before_ , but I figured he was just one of Blaine’s fucks.”

Suddenly a bitter laugh erupted from Kurt’s throat. “Do you know I _gave him condoms_? I _begged him_ to use condoms, if he was going to fuck around on me. I begged him. With tears in my eyes. I told him it wasn’t okay, but to please, _please_ use condoms.”

He held his hand over his mouth and made a noise that was a cross between a laugh and a sob.

“I hope he did,” Adam said.

“I hope he did,” Kurt echoed, feeling a little unsteady. “I asked him to use protection while he cheated on me.” He looked up to the ceiling and threw up his hands. “What is wrong with me? How _pathetic_ is that?”

“Kurt, people stay in bad relationships for all _kinds_ of reasons. They stay in terribly _destructive_ relationships. People used to think _Fifty Shades of Grey_ was romantic! Personally, I’m going to be _grateful_ that he let you go, and you can finally voice that there was a problem,” Adam said. “Though I really wish you would stop asking what is wrong with _you_ , and with _me_ , and start asking what the _fuck_ is wrong with _him_!”

Kurt’s eyes went round. It wasn’t that Adam _never_ swore... but he usually tried to be a little more delicate than that... His swearing was good-natured and casual, not so harsh and cutting. Kurt used to tease him about being quintessentially British.

But Adam didn’t apologize this time. He just looked at Kurt with deep concern in his eyes.

“You’re not pathetic,” he said, finally.

“I’m not what I used to be, either,” Kurt replied.

“That’s okay.” Adam hooked his thumbs on his jean pockets. “Do you have to stay for this? Can you leave here? We could get some coffee. We could talk. Or not.”

Kurt licked over his lower lip and sucked it in as he thought about that. 

“I won’t try anything,” Adam added.

Kurt swallowed, suddenly feeling young and small again. How could he be a twenty-three year old man, feeling the way he did? How was he _ever_ going to get his life together?

“Can we talk about your stint on _Doctor Who_?” Kurt ventured. 

Adam smiled slightly. “We could. You saw it?”

“Of course. I loved Cadence. I signed a petition for your character to be made an official Companion.” Kurt felt himself relax slightly as the topic shifted away from the disaster that was his life.

“I was only in a handful of episodes.”

“The people want what the people want.”

Kurt followed Adam out the door, crossing his arms over himself once more and trying to keep the conversation light. He just couldn’t handle any more of Adam’s kindness right now. 

It was ridiculous, but Kurt wondered if, like a plant poked and prodded with foreign objects, he’d deformed his personality around the strangeness of his friends and husband. It would figure, if he found himself unable to connect with anyone properly again, trapped in this toxic little social circle.

But Adam didn’t seem to care if Kurt was deformed. He spoke with him easily, casually. And when he didn’t think Kurt was looking, got this strange expression on his face, as though he’d been waiting for something for a long time, only to find it broken, and was grateful to hold the pieces in his large, gentle hands. 


End file.
